


Nightmare

by Stormwriter



Category: Sander Sides, Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Pillow Fights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 22:06:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13133181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormwriter/pseuds/Stormwriter
Summary: Roman's thoughts are running out of control.





	Nightmare

Roman doesn’t know how exactly it started, but his dream is spiraling out of control, fast.

He’s running. From what he doesn’t know- his chaser keeps changing forms. The dragon-witch. Mutant spiders. Zombie carrots. Every time Roman glances back the form is different, and his heart only beats faster.

He doesn’t look back anymore.

Leaves crunch under Roman’s feet as he runs blindly in the dark. This is his realm; everything that happens here is a direct result of what he thinks up, and he should be able to control himself. He knows this already. He  _knows_ this.

Yet he can’t stop; he wonders ‘what if’s and the world adjusts as Roman’s thoughts grow more and more out of control. The world becomes darker, shadows grow more sinister, monsters appear more grotesque, and his chaser grows faster and switches forms and Roman knows he’s causing this and he should have control and he needs to stop but he just can’t.

But he can run. It’s not very Prince-like of him, but it’s all he can do.

He vaguely wonders if running so fast in the dark is a good idea. After all, he can barely see his own feet- what’s to say he doesn’t run straight into a tree or a cliff or a-

There’s air where the ground should be, and suddenly Roman is falling.

He flails helplessly, screaming into the nothingness surrounding him.  A memory haunts him as he falls, a then encouraging, now mocking voice: ’ _Come on, you’re the creative one.’_

He  _is_ the creative one; he  _should_ be able to think of a solution to this easily. But just like then Roman’s mind has decided to come to a complete blank.  His limbs reach out randomly, but there’s nothing to grasp onto. He’s vaguely reminded of Dr. Facilier being dragged into his inevitable demise as he falls, and Roman groans at the instant change in his surroundings.

The darkness has morphed into somehow even more ominous shades of purple and green, and there are colorful spirits flying and dancing around him as he falls, taunting and sneering at him.

_“Are you ready?”_  They sing as a group, like  _Roman_ is the evil voodoo doctor getting a visit from karma.  

No, Roman is not ready but that doesn’t seem to matter because he keeps falling and the spirits keep singing and Roman  _still_ can’t stop any of it.

_“-Princey!”_  Roman barely hears over the taunting singing. The voice sounds like Virgil, but that doesn’t make sense as Roman hasn’t seen the anxious side as part of this nightmare yet. Granted, he can’t really sense anything besides the flying spirits and the air whooshing around him as he falls.  

_“Wake up!”_ The Virgil-voice yells.

Roman feels a slight lurch in his stomach, an indicator someone is forcibly removing him from the dreamscape- and before Roman can process anything, the dreamscape disappears instantly.

**…**

_“Wake up!”_

Roman sits straight up on his bed, wide-eyed and scatterbrained. Virgil is leaning over him, and Roman can’t even ponder why the anxious side is in his room because his mind is still running and spiraling fast. Roman’s hands go to his head, and he’s breathing hard like he’s still running, still stuck in the nightmare.

He can’t catch his breath.

Virgil must’ve had the same conclusion; he gently grasps Roman’s hands and starts attempting to pry them away from his head. “Hey, calm down,” he says. “Loosen your hands for me,”

“I can’t breathe”

“It’s ok. We can fix that.”

“No!”

“…no?”

“No, it’s not ok.” Roman said. “This is not ok this is my fault I’m being too much it’s too much and I can’t stop I can’t-”

“Whoa, Roman,” Virgil gives up on Roman’s hands and moves his grip to the prince’s shoulders. “Slow down, buddy,”

“I can’t do it! What if I never get control of my dreamscape again? What if I’m always chased by my fears? What if-” Roman stops to gasp a breath.  "What if it follows me back here?“

Roman instantly regrets voicing the thought because before he’s even done asking the question, there is a faint but ominous dragon-witch shadow forming directly behind Virgil.  _Son of a bee-sting,_  he thinks as his eyes transfix in horror at the growing nightmare.

"What?” Virgil asks, following Roman’s gaze to the shadows forming behind him. “Oh,” he turns back to Roman. “Roman, it’s ok.”

“No it’s not! This is my fault! ” The dragon-witch is becoming tangible outside of Roman’s creative realm and that’s bad and wrong and completely Roman’s fault because he just can’t stop-

“Roman!” Virgil grabs his shoulders, shifting him until his back is to the ever lurking shadow. “Ok here we go, just look at me”

Roman does.  Virgil’s hair is, for once, not concealing his face, creating a full view of his abundant eye-shadow and was the makeup… growing darker? Growing like the shadows in his dream- _oh god-_

“Stop that!” Virgil gives him a little shake. Roman blinks, and his eyes find Virgil’s again.  "There we go. Ok, let’s breathe in for four, alright? One two…"

Roman lets Virgil guide him through the breathing exercise. As his breathing calms, the shadows slowly fade out of existence. When they completely fade away, Roman collapses onto Virgil’s shoulder, exhausted as the adrenaline in him dies down. Virgil brings his hand to rest on Roman’s back.

"That was something,” Roman mutters once he has control over himself.

Virgil hums in agreement. “You going to tell me what that was about?”

Roman moves away from Virgil’s embrace. “Hey, what time is it? And while I am grateful, what are you doing in my room?” Roman asks, not very subtly avoiding Virgil’s question.

Virgil gestures to himself like it was obvious. “I’m Anxiety; I can feel when panic builds up inside any of us, whether it’s Thomas, you, or the one of the others. There was more coming from your room than usual so I decided to investigate.” His expression softens. “You’re not like me; you don’t become stressed out over nothing. What’s up?”

Roman opens his mouth to respond-

“And don’t deflect this time; I’m not leaving until you give me a straight answer.”

Roman can’t help it; the setup is too easy. “But nothing about us is straight.”

Virgil covers his mouth to muffle a chuckle. Roman feels himself smiling as well. “Alright, that was funny,” Virgil admits.  "But you still have to answer the question, dude.“

Roman sighs and lets his eyes wander anywhere in the room that is not Virgil. "I had a nightmare,” he admits.

Virgil nods, silently encouraging him to continue.

“It was…rather unpleasant.” Roman swallows. “I had to run away from my creations.”

“Why did you have to run away from them?”

“Because…”  _Because I can’t control myself,_  Roman thinks. _Because I was panicking. Because I wasn’t strong enough to face them._  “…because I couldn’t stop…anything.” Roman settles on saying.

Virgil initially waits for Roman to continue. He doesn’t. His eyes are still avoiding Virgil’s, and now his hands are fiddling with the bottom of his pajama shirt.

“What do you mean?” Virgil asks carefully.

“I couldn’t stop anything.  I couldn’t stop bringing my thoughts to life. I couldn’t stop my creations. I couldn’t stop myself. And I need to be able to stop myself-”

“Whoa buddy,” Virgil interrupts Roman before he talks himself into a panic again and puts his hands up in a placating gesture. “Take a breath.”

Roman inhales and exhales slowly.

“Alright,” Virgil says. “It’s ok that you don’t have that much self restraint, you know. That’s what I’m for. There’s a reason we work together. You think up ideas while your head’s in the clouds, and when you fly too far up I’ll pull you back to the ground. That’s kind of how we operate.”

Roman frowns. “I know that. That’s not the problem.”

“So what’s the problem?” Virgil asks calmly.

Roman looks off to the side. “…me”.

Virgil’s eyebrows furrow in concern. “Roman…” he says softly.

But Roman has flown off into the storm clouds. “I’ve been such a royal pain in the butt to you guys recently,” he says, closing his eyes. “I’ve been hurting everyone so many flipping times I’ve lost track. I couldn’t see you as anything more than a villian for the longest time. And I kept trying to respark Thomas’ romance with his ex. And even when I knew it wasn’t what he wanted, and that it was hurting him, I kept pushing Thomas toward reconciling with him because I just couldn’t stop.” Roman’s voice drops in volume.  “If I had better self control, I would be hurting you guys less. I need to stop being creative and romantic all the time.”

“But then you wouldn’t be you, Roman,” Virgil says. “All of us like you exactly as you are: a creative, very extra and passionate prince, even if you drive me up the wall sometimes. You wouldn’t be our hero if you were anyone else.”

“But real heroes are supposed to save the ones they care about, not hurt them.” Roman mutters.

“I guess,” Virgil shrugs. “But think of it this way: are you ever mad at Patton when he’s feeling down?”

“What? Of course not,” Roman says, eyes flying open in shock. “Why would I be mad at him? He can’t help it; he’s the most emotional out of all of us.”

“Right,” Virgil says. “Are you ever mad at me when I have an anxiety attack?”

“No!” Roman says vehemently. “Never,”

“So why should we be upset with you?”

Roman blinks.

“You can’t help the way you are, Roman. You’re naturally imaginative and yeah, at times, you’re too imaginative and that causes problems but that’s why all four of us work together. We’ll balance you out, like dude I  _never_ hesitate to tell you when your ideas are too extra, right?”

“Right,” Roman nods. He’s painfully aware of every time Virgil shuts down his ideas; for the first time in his life, Roman finds it relieving.

“So how about in the future, you just focus on being your creative self and I’ll worry about if you’re being too much, considering worrying is kinda my thing?” Virgil asks, smiling.

“Deal,” Roman matches his smile.

A moment of peaceful silence passes between them.

“Thank you, Virgil,” Roman says. “You’re a really are a good guy, you know.”

“Whatever,” Virgil tries to shrug it off, but fails to hide the ever-growing smile on his face. “Anyways, it’s getting pretty late. Good night!” he says as he gets up to leave.

“Wait!” Roman quickly grabs Virgil’s arm without thinking. Virgil stops, sits back down, and turns back to Roman. “Can you- um,”  Roman tries. His words aren’t working for him; it’s a simple request- one that Virgil and Patton asks of Logan and him all the time-  but Roman just can’t seem to get the words out of his mouth.

“Would you mind- um-” Roman closes his eyes and breathes while Virgil waits silently. “I don’t have nightmares that often and they’re always so-” he breaks off again.

“Princey, do you want me to stay here tonight?” Virgil asks. Roman nods. “Ok,” Virgil immediately lies down on the bed on top of the covers and spreads himself out, effectively using all of the space in addition to Roman’s pillow.

Roman blinks. He’s relieved Virgil understood his reluctance to be alone after his nightmare, but now he has a different issue altogether.

“Wait a second,” Roman says. “Don’t take up all the space! And go get your own pillow!” He says as he attempts to shove Virgil to only one side of the bed.

“Nah, I’m good right here,” Virgil says with a smirk as he refuses to be moved.

“Virgil!”

“Nope, not moving!”

Roman rolls his eyes, not particularly annoyed. “Fine,” he says, getting up from his bed to leave the room.

“Wait, where are you going?” Virgil asks, but Roman ignores him. He quickly walks into Virgil’s room, yanks the pillow from his bed, and returns to his own room. Except for his arms now folded behind his head, Virgil hasn’t moved an itch. That’s fine by Roman- it makes his plan easier. Roman sits on the edge of the bed with Virgil’s pillow securely in his hands.

“Virgil, you are my friend, and I love you dearly,” Roman says in an uncharacteristically sober tone that doesn’t quite match the twitching grin he’s trying, and failing, to suppress.

Now wary, Virgil half-sits up, supporting his weight on his elbows and narrows his eyes at Roman. “But…?” Virgil asks.

Roman quickly raises the pillow in his hands above his head and smacks Virgil with it. Virgil shrieks.

“But! Friends! Don’t! Steal! Other! Friends’! Pillows!” Roman says with a grin, hitting Virgil on each word.

Laughing, Virgil tries using one hand to block Roman’s attack. It doesn’t dawn on Roman to watch out for his other hand until the royal side is being smacked by his own pillow.

The pillow fight quickly escalates until both sides are laughing too hard to aim straight, and they both collapse on the bed, this time on their respective pillows and below the blankets.

“Hey,” Virgil says softly. “Are you good now?”

“Yeah,” Roman says. “I’m good.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was my fander-secret-santa gift for @leesackron on tumblr, and it's also posted on my sander sides blog @cinnamonrollpatton. 
> 
> Tell me what you think; comments are very much appreciated!


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